Inquisitor
by ElementalsAdvocate
Summary: A story of my game character, Tamworth Trevelyan, as he tries discover who killed Divine Justinia V and wiped the Temple of Sacred Ashes off the face of Thedas, while trying to keep his own hide intact, and maybe fall for a certain scar-faced Seeker. Personal challenge of 1000 words per week. Rated T, just to be safe. Read, review, and enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Inquisitor**

By ElementalsAdvocate

Chapter 1: Shards of Ice, Shards of Memory

When Tam woke up, the first thing he experienced was cold, a biting cold that flickered across his skin like fire. The second thing he experienced was pain, an all-over kind of pain that shackled his limbs and sucked at this resolve to move. The third thing he experienced was a hard, unyielding surface pressed against his face.

One out of the three wasn't usually something to worry about. Two out of three was a little concerning. Three out of three however fell squarely in the territory of not-good-at-all.

Slowly, Tam cracked open one eye. Darkness, dimness, and vague shapes revolved across his cracked vision, swapping in and out, rippling and compressing in a nauseating flow. Tam hurriedly shut his eye, and kept it shut until his stomach settled.

_Skull injury, as Adan would put it. Possibly a concussion, but I probably wouldn't have woken up at all if I had a concussion. Now, what about the rest of me?_

Carefully, Tam unfolded his mind from the fetal ball it had assumed and set about mentally cataloguing a list of injuries_. Lying on my front. Torso, cold but still moving. Breathing is a little difficult. Cracked and possibly broken ribs. Left arm, numb, right arm, same. Legs feel fine except my right knee which feels like someone hit it with a sledgehammer. _

Now, could he move and try to find out anything else without passing out? _Only one way to find out_. Tam shifted his weight, clenching his teeth against the sudden onslaught of pain, and rolled over.

It was not a smart move.

He gasped, holding onto the scream that threatened to rip out of his lungs like a ballista bolt by sheer force of will. _Okay, make that definitely broken ribs, and both knees taken out with a sledgehammer._ Still, the fact that he was feeling this much pain meant he was definitely alive. And if he could just work past the pins and needles erupting along the length of his arm, it was possible there would be a regenerating draught tucked into his belt.

Contrary to popular knowledge, regenerating potions do not actually "cure" or "heal" injuries. They simply reinforce the body's natural healing processes. As such, they are tremendous when dealing with flesh wounds, helpful with most other ailments, but damned unhelpful with broken bones, and they do not cut out the pain of recovery in the slightest. That is why, when Tam finally managed to bring the small leather pouch to his lips, yanked out the stopper and downed the contents, the pain doubled, tripled, and then quadrupled.

This time, he didn't fight the scream or the convulsions that forced his eyes open and wracked through his body like an avalanche down a mountainside. He gnashed his teeth, biting on the inside of cheek hard enough to draw blood. All he could do was howl, and pray that he would lose consciousness before he lost his sanity.

Just before he got his wish, Tam's rolling eyes focused on his left hand, and the livid green brand that glowed and sparked like the heart of a storm. Just as it had six months ago, when he had first awakened on that terrible, abortive day in the shadow of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, when all the world went mad.

He had awakened in darkness then too….

* * *

><p><strong>Six months before…<strong>

_Green, shifting shadows and mist, clouding his mind and his vision. A single, shining figure upon a promontory above him. Chittering, many-legged shadows behind him. Laboured breaths, a shining hand outstretched to-_

Tamworth Trevelyan snapped into wakefulness, his body convulsing as lightning seemed to run up and down his left arm. He half-rose from the narrow cot he had been lying upon, but tipped over, choking on his own dried saliva and crashing to the stone floor. His mind reeled. His vision was blurred. He tried to extend his arms to support himself, but found them manacled to a steel bar which kept his hands bound and separated by over a foot-and-a-half of unyielding metal.

"He's awake. Inform the Hands of the Divine."

Tam felt rough hands seize him by the arms before being hauled to his feet and frog-marched across ringing flagstones. He heard rusty hinges squeal and the sound of a heavy wooden door creak open. Multiple hobnailed boots cracked on the floor around him. Through half-lidded eyes, Tam made out the forms of six heavily armed and armored figures surrounding him: two dragging him along by the arms and two more ahead and behind respectively.

Another squeal of hinges, and the group marched into a large cell illuminated by the lights of fitfully burning torches. Tam was forcibly deposited on his knees in the center of the room, his ankles swiftly manacled to rings set into the floor, the two men who had carried him pulling out Chantry sun-burst medallions and kissing them loudly as they backed away and out the door, slamming it closed behind them. The four remaining guards retreated to the boundaries of the room, drawing their swords, all eyes on… him?

_They're afraid. Of me?_

Tam tried to think back, to realize what he might have done to prompt such a response, and drew a blank. Nothing, in the murky, slightly thumping mess that was his consciousness at the moment, was there to indicate what he might of done, who he might have done it with, where he was now, when he had arrived, or even how he got there. He remembered nothing, except-

Tam opened his mouth, to demand some answers, when suddenly his left hand erupted in green flames!

He gasped, jerking back as bolts of pain raced up the length of his arm and sparks flew from his fingers, but then as suddenly as they had appeared, the flames vanished. Tam squinted past the aftershocks of pain thrumming through his body, holding his hand as far away from him as he could while trying to study it in the feeble light. His hand seemed normal, no scars or wounds, but as Tam twisted his wrist to get a better look at his palm, sparks and flame erupted again!

Braced against the pain, Tam made out a band of solid green… light, for want of a better word, running across his palm from the webbing between his thumb and fore finger to the palm's outer edge. And again, as suddenly as it had appeared the light, flames and sparks vanished again.

"Alright. What in the name of Andraste's sacred ashes just happened?" Tam voiced aloud.

The guards shifted, but stubbornly kept their silence.

_Disciplined. That's good, considering what just happened._

The cell door opened again. Tam barely made out a long corridor on the other side, but then his view was blocked by a pair of feminine figures entering the cell.

The first woman had the manner and dress of a professional soldier, black hair cut short except for a Navaraan warrior's braid that circled the crown of her head, and a thin but deep scar that ran from her jawline to the middle of her cheek on the left side. At a glance, Tam could tell her armor was well fitted and solidly practical, and she moved as one with the longsword sheathed at her side and the shield slung across her shoulders. But it was the tabard she wore that seized his attention: A single wide open eye, with the sunburst of the Chantry radiating out from behind it in white on a field of sable. It was the sign of the Seekers of Truth, the Chantry's personal investigator's, answering only to the Devine herself.

_Tam, my boy, you have really stepped in it this time._

The second woman was just as impressive as the first, though less demonstratively so. Slim, she nevertheless projected a sense of disciplined power, wearing a hood of lavender that left her face in shadow, but failed to hide her bright red hair beneath the cowl. Her body was covered in a fine chainmail vest that fell almost to her knees, split from the hips to allow extra flexibility. Her arms were bare of any form of armor except the heavy lavender cloth of her outfit.

_Not a soldier then. A spy, perhaps?_

The warrior circled the room, while the spy stepped into the light coming from a grate in the ceiling to stare into Tam's face, not saying a word. Tam studied her in turn, then noticed something peculiar. A large medallion or pendant of silverite hung at the base of the woman's throat, just below her high collar which hid the skin of her neck completely. It also showed the eye and sunburst of the Seekers of Truth, but as Tam looked more closely, he could clearly see a sword, thrusting downward through the center of the symbol behind the eye, its blade appearing again from the lower edge of the eye, and its point resting at the rim of the pendant.

_That's surprising. Does she represent some sect among the Seekers? Perhaps she's a different kind of Seeker, a spy master, or maybe an assassin! What's going on?_

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now."

* * *

><p>My goal is to write and post a new chapter of a thousand words every week. Please support me by reading, reviewing, and responding to my work, please?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Inquisitor

By ElementalsAdvocate

Disclaimer: Everything _Dragon Age_ belongs to Bioware, not me.

Chapter 2: A Light in the Sky

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now!"

That was the warrior, growling right beside his ear. Tam flinched away reflexively, gritting his teeth to contain the yelp that had threatened to leap out of his throat like a nug from its burrow.

"The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you." The warrior circled Tam, shaking her hand loosely from the wrist as she was trying to pin down some elusive point, while the spy circled in a counterpoint to the Seeker.

Tam could only stare at the Seeker in horrified shock. The Conclave! His memory was suddenly flooding back, as if the very word had jarred it loose from the tenterhooks of his headache.

In 9:37 Dragon,, the Chantry cathedral in Kirkwall was destroyed by a rogue apostate, and that heinous act of terrorism ignited the rising tensions between the Templar Order and the Mages of the Circle into a bloody civil conflict that raged across southern Thedas for nearly four years. Many innocents had been caught in the cross-fire, and it looked like all the nations of the south would drown in blood, steel, and mage-fire.

Finally, Divine Justinia V, head of the Andrastian faith and leader of the Chantry in Val Royeaux, called for a cessation to the violence. Somehow, the Devine managed to convince the leaders of the vying factions to come to a meeting at the Temple of Sacred Ashes in the Frostback Mountains the following spring to settle the dispute. This meeting, called the Conclave, was heralded as the gathering of the Age, and everyone who was anyone was expected to be there.

House Trevelyan, as one of the premiere noble families in the Teyrnir of Ostwick, had sent a large delegation of their own, which included several important Chantry officials from Ostwick. One of Tam's uncles on his mother's side, a Templar Knight-Captain, and several cousins, who were younger initiates of the order, had also elected to come. A great-aunt, a Senior Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle of Magi, had also come to act as Trevelyan House's voice among the Mages. And the whole riotous bunch had been led by his uncle and mentor, Ser Teagan Trevelyan, Champion of Ostwick and three-time winner of the Grand Melee.

_And… they're all dead?! How…? Why…?_

The warrior's face twisted with rage at Tam's stunned silence. "Explain _this_," the woman snarled again, reaching down and dragging the offending limb up in front of their eyes, when as if on cue, the limb erupted in another shower of sparks and green flame before promptly flaring out again.

The small jolt of pain which had accompanied the strange burst cleared Tam's head like smelling salts, enough to gasp out a ragged "I _can't_."

"What do you mean you can't?" It was almost a wail.

"I don't know what that is! Or how it got there."

"You're lying!" The Seeker seized Tam by the collar, eyes wide, lips pulled back from gritted teeth as if in preparation of biting him.

Luckily, the slender woman in the chainmail interceded, calmly dragging the Seeker off Tam with a familiarity in her manner that hinted that this was probably not the first time she had had to pull the Seeker away from an object of rage. The spy spoke for the first time since entering Tam's cell: low, melodic, with an accent he couldn't place, but firm. "We need him, Cassandra."

That statement got Tam's full attention. _So, the Seeker's name is Cassandra. And," need me" for what, may I ask?_

"I don't understand," Tam said, slowly, clearly, fiercely enunciating each syllable to emphasize his anger, his demand for more information.

"Do you remember what happened? How this began?" the spy asked, turning to Tam, taking over the interrogation while her partner recovered her composure.

Tam thought back, trying to find something to start with. He remembered…

_Starring down from the balustrade of the Temple, Tam took in the valley stretched out below him, cupped between the flanks of granite peaks still covered in snow. His eyes sketched the mountains contours, contemplated the setting sun with its vibrant shades of red, orange, gold, pink and violet. However, his eyes were inevitably drawn the valley floor, and the hundreds of tents, carts, and all the paraphernalia of a moving city, or at least several small towns, if you recognized the groupings. _

_The camps of the Mages were on the northern side of the valley, scattered across the snow in seemingly random groups. Grand tents made of rich fabrics were erected next to make-shift shelters of coarse sack-cloth and pine boughs. _

_The Templars on the other hand were easy to make out. They had taken over the southern side of the valley, and their tents were arranged in ridged ranks and columns, the regalia of the order clear to see, and small patrols treading the boundaries of the camp were easily discerned from the temple. _

_Finally, packed precariously between temporarily quiescent factions, were representatives from every nation, city, and organization in southern Thedas were there. Flags showing the double dogs of Farelden, the Lion of Orlais, the skull and crown of Nevarra, Antiva's proud-masted ship and the dragon of Tevinter were all in evidence. Even the far off Anderfels had sent a small delegation, the sign of the sword and flame flapping proudly over their tents. The heraldry of dozens of noble houses was also in evidence, grouped around the flags of their respective nations. _

_The merchants were all over the place, the rationale being if someone wanted to fight, then that somebody was probably going to want a hot meal and a drink soon after, and it was best to be the one with the product in order to be the first to get the gold. Occasionally, Tam could hear the bellow and cry of a hawker selling their wares among the forest of tents and shelters. Various guilds had also sent representatives, though the Dwarven Merchant's Guild had yet to arrive. _

_All in all, it was a mess. A big one, and Tam could only wonder at how Devine Justinia could possibly try and extricate her way among so many competing agendas. _

"_If someone decided to start a fight now, they could probably behead half of Thedas before anyone could even think of saying "stop"."_

_Tam turned around to find the speaker was his uncle Teagan. The aging champion stepped beside Tam, looking down into the valley and swigging from a steaming mug of mulled cider, a thin trickle of liquid spilling out of the corner of this mouth to run down his massive grey and black beard. Teagan was a big man, despite the natural ravages of time having taken their toll. Broad shoulders were covered in a heavy fur lined cloak, showing off his standard of a black ram on a field of red. Beneath the cloak, Teagan wore thick woolens in Trevelyan House's white and grey with bronze highlights, in a bid to ward off the chill. Spring had technically arrived two weeks ago, but here in the heights at the southern end of the Frostbacks, winter clung on tenaciously. _

"_What do you think lad?"_

"_I think you're probably right Uncle. But then again, anyone who tried to start a fight in this confined space would likely be dead in minutes as well. Mutual self-destruction gains nothing."_

_Teagan grunted sourly. "Tell that to the madman who blew up the chantry in Kirkwall. Mark my words lad, nothing scares a master strategist so much as a fool, for a fool will walk where sane men fear to tread. Speaking of which…?" _

"_The Devine's personal guard has already combed this place from top to bottom. There's no chance of a repeat of Kirkwall."_

"_So says the student to the master." Teagan sighed in resignation before draining his mug. "Well, we can only pray that the Maker sees fit to spare us from another tragedy. Not that he ever has."_

"_Don't let Aunt Careful hear you say that."_

"_I'm a blasphemous old ram nephew. She knows that well enough by now. And besides, she's all the way in Val Royeaux, acting as her husband's spine from the chantry confessional. And don't quote me on that."_

"_Of course not, Uncle."_

… And after that, he and Teagan had adjourned to their rooms for the night, and then…. And then…

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing! He couldn't remember anything, from the moment he had laid down to sleep that night to the moment he had woken up in the cell. Except…

_A staircase of black stone, leading up into a smoky green sky, frantic feet ringing and breath stinging in his lungs…_

"I remember running," Tam said slowly, trying desperately to tug at that strand of memory without snapping the line.

"_Things_ were chasing me," _giant, eight-legged, snarling, hissing things_!

"And then..." _glowing, golden, a flame in the darkness, silhouette bright against that terrible sky, "_a woman?"

"A woman?" The spy drew back, neck arching like a swan's, eyebrows rising, though whether in surprise or skepticism Tam couldn't tell.

"She reached out to me, but then…" The strand of memory snapped, and Tam allowed his head to fall forward in defeat. "Everything else is just… gone."

He heard the Seeker, Cassandra, step in front of him to speak softly to the red-head spy. He didn't have enough in him to care.

It was- it **had** been Ser Teagan's dictum: A man's mind was sacred. Passion, fury, rage, fear, despair, anger, envy, pride, all were allowable in small doses, but in their extremes were nothing but demons, and demons killed without mercy or cause. When a man's mind was overcome on the battlefield, that man became a demon, a killer without reason or conscience, that man was a danger to everyone.

That man was killed without question.

_Did I become a demon? Is that why I can't remember anything? Did I kill you, Uncle Teagan?_

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift."

Tam felt rather than saw Cassandra step close and bend down, stabbing a key into the lock on the manacles which bound his wrists, snapping them open with a quick spin.

"What… what did happen?"

The Seeker flicked her eyes up to stare into his own for an icy moment.

"It will be easier to show you."

After binding his hands together with cord and taking the chains from his feet, Tam followed Cassandra meekly down a long, dark corridor lined with cells and lit by more fitfully burning torches in wall sconces at regular intervals. Then, up a long, wide, straight staircase of more cut stone and up into a long hall, dark except the light filtering through the cracks in a massive pair of double doors at the far end.

"Open," was Cassandra's terse command, and the soldiers who had followed them from the cell rushed to push open the portal. Bright, wane sunlight spilled through the widening crack, and as Tam followed Cassandra through he had to shield his eyes from the brilliance which dazzled him and the blast of frigid air which accompanied it.

As his eyes adjusted to the daylight, Tam saw a collection of small cottages, buildings and tents, all inside a wooden palisade, and suddenly realized where he was. Haven! The collection of

As he took in the he heard a far-off rumble, like thunder or waves crashing against cliffs. Tam turned his head slightly to find the source of the sound, and beheld a sight that would remain with him to the end of his days.

High above the forbidding peaks that surrounded Haven, a giant… hole had appeared in the sky. Massive, angry grey cloud banks swirled around a nexus of green light, burning like a second sun in the sky. Something floated across the face of the green storm, and Tam realized that it was a titanic block of stone, one of several which hovered and spun beneath the light. A single great tendril like a coiling serpent, formed from clouds and green lightning, draped from the center of the maelstrom, connecting sky to the earth before it disappeared behind the bulk of the mountains.

"We call it "The Breach,"" Said Cassandra, never taking her eyes off the roiling mass. "It's a massive rift into the world of the demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift," Cassandra turned back to Tam, her face empty of expression, "just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."

Tam gaped at her. "An explosion can do that?" _Is this what happened at Kirkwall? No, someone probably would have mentioned a gigantic hole in the sky if it was there. _

"This one did." The Seeker looked Tam square in the eye. "Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world."

The swirling vortex hanging above their heads shuddered, spitting flares of lightning. Simultaneously, the pain in Tam's arm suddenly redoubled, the mark blazing bright as if in answer to The Breach's distress. The pain drove Tam to his knees, a scream ripping from his throat before the green fire died out. He clutched his hand reflexively to his chest, riding out the echoing waves of pain which racked his body.

"Each time the Breach expands, your Mark spreads… and it is killing you." Cassandra knelt in front of Tam, gesturing at his hand for emphasis. "It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

Tam stared at the Seeker, askance, "You say it **may** be the key… to doing what?

"Closing the Breach. Whether that's possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance however. And yours."

Tam almost laughed at the less-than-subtle threat, "You still think I did this? To myself?"

"Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong."

"And if I'm not responsible?" Tam snapped.

"Someone is," the Seeker stated coolly, "and you are our only suspect. You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way."

Tam looked into the Seeker's eyes, trying to find some hint of deceit or malice, to discover if this was indeed all just a big, cruel joke. And found none, only a frank, resolute appraisal and an implacable determination to see a task done right.

Tam breathed deep, feeling suddenly as if he were standing upon the edge of precipice, and let it out. "I understand."

The Seeker's eyes widened slightly in surprise, "Then…?"

"I'll do what I can," Tam said simply, "Whatever it takes."

Wordless, the Seeker nodded, stood up and pulled Tam to his feet.

Together, they started walking.

Into the unknown.

Authors notes:

I would like to send a big "Thank You" to everyone who read my story this week. I'm posting this chapter a little early because I've got school starting next week. Please don't hesitate to post me with suggestions or corrections. Next week, it's on to the Breach.


	3. Chapter 3

Inquisitor

By ElementalsAdvocate

Disclaimer: Anything Dragon Age belongs to Bioware, not me.

Chapter 3: Onwards and Upwards

Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of Truth and Right Hand of Divine Justinia V, was not angry. She was _furious_, with a deep, passionate fury that made her shake from her core. Hers was the fury of the earthquake, the shuddering and shifting of everything which had once been solid and reliable, responding in kind to the tragedy which had befallen all of the Thedas. The Divine was dead, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Now, she was escorting the only suspect she had in connection with the Divine's death to the place where it had occurred, in the slender hope that the Mark he bore might stave off the apocalypse. Right now, she _really_ wanted to hit something, anything to relieve the roiling in her guts. Nevertheless, as a Seeker, she would act with restraint and deliberation, in spite of the circumstances.

The people of Haven, no doubt attracted by the appearance of a woman in armor and a man with bound hands, surrounded by a retinue of soldiers, gathered along the path to the town gates to watch them pass. Faces, angry, confused, grief-stricken, and similar expressions were much in evidence. Cassandra kept her face straight ahead, though her eyes roved constantly, watching for the spark that might turn this grief-stricken but restrained gathering into a murderous riot.

"They have decided your guilt," Cassandra spoke low, but in such a way as to be clearly heard by her prisoner. "They need it."

"Having second thoughts about throwing me to wolves Seeker," Tam quipped, glancing at her with one uncanny grey eye.

Cassandra directed a withering sidelong glance of her own at her prisoner. "The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, Head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers." Cassandra's voice rose with passion in the frozen air. "It was a chance for peace between Mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead. We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves. As she did. Until the Breach is sealed."

"In other words," Tamworth said dryly, "if whatever we are about to try doesn't work, my head will be on the block in order to placate the howling masses. Thank you for the encouragement Seeker. "

Cassandra's glare would have bored a smoking hole in the back of the prisoner's head, but refused to reply. She had had too much experience in the last few weeks dealing with a particularly verbose dwarf to rise to the comment.

Once out the town gates, Cassandra directed their little group down a frozen and churned mud track, south and east following Haven's palisade walls, past the small lake which provided the town's water, then climbing up to a fortified stone bridge spanning the stream which fed the lake. Soldiers on duty pulled open the gates to allow the Seeker and her prisoner entrance, then swiftly shut it behind them. Only when the gates were firmly locked and barred behind them did Cassandra release her hold on the prisoner.

Drawing a small knife from the belt at her waist, Cassandra expertly slit the ropes binding the prisoner's wrists. "There will be a trial. I can promise no more. Come," Cassandra called over her shoulder as she started walking away, "it is not far."

"Where are you taking me?" Tamworth asked, rubbing his wrists to restore the circulation while increasing his stride to catch up.

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach." Cassandra replied shortly. "But first," Cassandra indicated a pile of mismatched armor lying on the side of the bridge," you are going to need something more formidable than wool where we are going."

It didn't take long for Cassandra to extract a set of mismatched leather armor that fit Tam to a reasonable degree, as well as a set of steel lamellar shoulder plates and a pair of leather bracers. She also found at the bottom of the pile a lonely leather glove for the prisoners right hand that had been meticulously covered with small steel studs which would offer a nasty surprise if he had to punch somebody, but Cassandra refused point blank to allow him to carry a weapon.

"Now," the Seeker stated, standing back as Tam finished strapping on the bracers, "let us-"

"One moment Seeker," Tamworth reached back into the pile and extracted a thin strip of leather cord. Deliberately, he pulled a clump of his red-brown hair into a small tail of hair high on the back of his head, securing it with the cord. To the Seeker's eyes, the act seemed to focus him, his face become sharper, and his eyes like chips of glacier ice. Noticing her stare, the prisoner stated simply, "No true son of the Ostwick would go into battle without being properly dressed."

Cassandra filed that piece of information under "things men do to feel important," and promptly turned her attention to the task at hand. Time was of the essence.

"Open the gate! We are heading into the valley."

Authors Notes: Didn't quite make my quota this week, but still. Trying a different POV is tough!


	4. Chapter 4

Inquisitor

By ElementalsAdvocate

Disclaimer: Anything Dragon Age belongs to Bioware, not me.

Chapter 4: How to Make Friends and Influence People, Part 1

Cassandra and her prisoner strode up the muddy track, snow and frozen ground making the going treacherous. Above their heads, the Breach vomited green clods of Fade material which burst like raindrops upon the earth, spattering fire which refused to go out despite the contrary weather. Along the road, more soldiers took cover under any kind of cover they could find, eyes wide and wary for the next ball of bile to strike.

Suddenly, the Breach screamed and quivered, throwing a veritable spray of burning material into the surrounding mountainsides. Simultaneously, Tamworth, _the prisoner_, Cassandra sternly reminded herself, collapsed, writhing as green flames and sparks erupted from the Mark on his hand.

"The pulses are coming faster now." Cassandra pulled the prisoner back to his feet. "The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face."

"How did I survive the blast?" Tamworth gasped as he painfully started walking again.

"They said you… stepped out of a rift, and then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes."

The prisoner gaped at her, his expression one of seemingly genuine astonishment. "The camps!"

"Gone," Cassandra snarled as they walked out onto another bridge which crossed the stream before the road headed up the mountain again. "The shock from the blast set off avalanches in the mountains above. What wasn't destroyed by fire was buried under tons of ice and snow. What remains, you shall see for your-"

"Look out!"

With a thunderous crash a particularly large fireball smashed into the guard point on the other side of the bridge. Over the screams of hapless soldiers and civilians burning alive, Cassandra heard rather than felt the stone buckled under her feet as green fire blazed before her eyes. The bridge collapsed, spilling Cassandra and her prisoner into the frozen stream below.

The Seeker dragged herself to her feet in spite of the bruises which screamed down her side from connecting with broken stone from the bridge above, and out of the corner of her eye spotted the prisoner also rising, slipping slightly on the ice beneath his feet. Fortunately, the unseasonably cold weather generated by the Breach had caused the stream to freeze solid.

Another fireball thundered out of the sky towards them, clipping the bank of the stream before impacting on what would have been a secluded inlet. Only instead of spattering and burning out, this ball turned inward, the green flames erupting from a center of blackness which bubbled like swamp gas from the bottom of a bog.

But what emerged from that black well was far worse than anything found at the bottom of a swamp. Hunchbacked, long-armed, ebon skin with the texture of rotting meat, and a single glowing white orb of an eye at the end of a prognostic neck, the demon stretched as if embracing the new world it had entered.

"What is that?"

"Shade," Cassandra snapped, drawing her sword. "Stay behind me!"

The Seeker had faced two forms of Shade's in her life time, greater and lesser. This one appeared to be one of the lesser shades, but that didn't mean the creature was any less dangerous. Shades were patient and persistent, sapping the minds of the living until they worked up enough strength to strike. Fortunately, they weren't very intelligent or cunning.

"In Andraste's name!"

Cassandra met the demon head on, getting under the reach of its long arms and driving the tip of her sword deep into the fleshy length of its neck. The shade warbled, trying to tear at its attacker with clawed hands, but Cassandra had left her silverite shield strapped across her back, and the demons claws did nothing. If she could just-

"For Ostwick and the Anvil!"

Cassandra snatched a swift glance over her shoulder. Standing on the ice was the prisoner, with sword and shield, trading blows with another shade!

_Where did he get those weapons?_

But Cassandra couldn't waste time on it. With a vicious upward thrust, she forced her shade back, ripping the sword back and forth to almost sever the creatures head from its shoulders. Black liquid gushed from the wound which burst into grey steam upon striking the ground to be whipped away by the wind like smoke. Still the shade fought, whistling and warbling like a kettle on the boil until with a final savage wrench, Cassandra severed the creatures head from its shoulders. The pieces of the shade, its consciousness shattered, its power broken, scattered into motes of glowing ash on the wind. The Fade fire, which had burned through the whole interlude, shivered and went out without a sound, leaving only the mournful call of the wind.

"Well, that's over."

Cassandra's sword was up and pointed at the prisoner before he finished speaking. Apparently, he had finished with his shade and had come over to- _To help? To harm? Doesn't matter._ "Drop your weapon. Now!"

Expressions flickered across the prisoner's face as he stared at the Seeker; shock, incredulity, exasperation. "We're about to go into a demon-infested valley and you want me to- Ugh!" He growled, shook his head and sighed. "Alright, have it your way."

"Wait!"

The word was out of Cassandra's mouth before she realized what she was saying. About to drop his blade, the prisoner waited, face expectant.

Cassandra snarled at herself, the prisoner's implacable logic was…logical. It made her want to hit something.

"You are right." Cassandra ground out, reluctantly sheathing her sword. "I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless." She turned away, wanting the interlude to be over, but a memory from her time in Kirkwall forced her to turn back, "I should remember that you agreed to come willingly." _Like Varric. Damn that dwarf._

The prisoner, _Ser Trevelyan_, Cassandra allowed, said nothing; just scrutinizing her with those uncanny grey eyes. But then he simply nodded his head and sheathed his blade. "I'll follow your lead, Seeker."

With the bridge taken out, Cassandra and Trevelyan were forced to follow the stream in order to get back to the road. Demons wandered across the landscape, and engagements were inevitable. Three more shades and four wraiths, weak but malevolent demons that spat blobs of Fade muck from a distance, were added to their tally before the pair found a flight of stone steps which lead back to the road.

"We're getting close to the rift," Cassandra called out as they climbed another flight of steps leading up to a small group of out buildings which once had held grain for the Temple. "You can hear the fighting."

"Who's fighting?" Trevelyan panted, leaning against the stony bank on their right and clutching his side. In the last fight, he had been shoved hard by a shade against an ornamental stone pillar. Though his armor hadn't been breached, he most certainly had bruises beneath the leather.

"You'll see soon." The Temple of Sacred Ashes was built onto the side of a mountain, and with only one main road leading to the Temple, buildings had been constructed wherever there was flat ground adjacent the track. Now, those hamlets had become natural rally points for the troops. If they were going to hold the valley against the demons coming from the Breach, they needed to hold those buildings. "We must help them. Here," Cassandra dug into her belt and pulled out a small leather flask. "Drink this."

She jerked the cork out of the top, and the heady scent of elfroot spilled out before she passed the flask over. Nodding his thanks, Trevelyan took a swift pull before making to hand it back, but Cassandra refused. "You will likely need that again. I have more. Come, quickly now!"

They turned a corner at an outcropping of stone and ran into a melee. Soldiers wielding axes and swords were locked in a fight for their lives. Shades bubbled up from black and green pools in the ground, while wraiths seemed to appear out of thin air, spitting green death in every direction. And in the air over their heads-

"The rift!" Cassandra screamed into the cold grey air, and hurled herself into the fray. "Onwards! For the Most Holy! Onwards!"

* * *

><p>Tam had only moments before he jumped into the melee, but the heart of the rift reminded him of nothing so much as a conifer of shiny green crystal, surrounded by a translucent fog that roiled and coiled upon itself as if in a dance with the combatants below.<p>

To the left, a knot of soldiers had formed around a slim figure in bulky traveler's clothes that wielded a staff with alarming skill, hurling bolts of ice over the heads of the soldiers into the ranks of demons surrounding them. _A mage!_ Meanwhile, over on the right a stout blond figure crouched atop a pile of rubble, clutching a strange contraption to his chest, launching arrows with speed and precision into the demons, every shot accompanied by a loud _clank_.

Then he and Cassandra were in among the demons, and all thought of the rift above and the other combatants around him was driven from his mind.

Their previous fights together had forced Tam and Cassandra to work as a team. Now, that teamwork blazed in the battle. When Tam struck at a shade, Cassandra guarded his back, warding off the globs of wraith bolts. When Cassandra looked about to crumble under an assault, Tam leapt in, driving the demons back. Together, Tam and the Seeker drove through to the rift.

"Now!" Cassandra shouted, cleaving the arm from a shade that got too close, "Use the Mark!"

"How?" Tam bellowed back. "No one mentioned to me how I'm supposed to-"

"Here!"

Tam suddenly felt his shield wrest from his grasp and his left hand seized in a grip of steel. In a fleeting moment he saw the mage, bald head, pointed ears, teeth bared, nostrils flared, eyes blazing with battle-fire and a terrible focus.

"Quickly, before more come through!" Shouting, the mage dragged Tams hand up and plunged it into the rift!

To Tam, it was like have his hand cut to the bone and shoved in a vat of ice water at the same time. Pain ripped through his arm, thunder crashed in his head. The rift screamed and squealed, wind howled. Tam felt something pressing against his mind, felt an almost unbearable pressure against his very soul until, with a savage shout, he pushed back!

He felt something tear, and suddenly-

- _it was as if he was standing in front of an open door, feeling the wind rush past him into his home, his mind, his world. For a moment, Tam thought he sensed the presence of another mind, guiding the edge of a door into his hand. Not knowing what he was doing, Tam gave a mighty shove, putting all of his will behind that slender edge, pressing against the wind, slamming it shut-_

There was an implosion of air, and Tam staggered backwards, fighting for balance as before him, the rift, no longer a conifer of green stone and glowing crystal, but a nebulous nugget of light, collapsed in upon its self, disappearing in a spray of sun-bursts.

Fighting to catch his breath, Tam clutched at his head, blinking past the spots bouncing across his vision and trying to focus on something, anything other than the sound of waves currently crashing back and forth between his ears. Sweeping past patches of light and dark on the ground, Tam finally focused on a trio of brown tree-trunks, which resolved into a pair of worn, brown leather boots, attached to legs covered in grey woolen trousers, and the base of heavy wooden staff.

Bringing his eyes up in tandem with his improving equilibrium, Tam identified a broad leather belt, festooned with pouches, over a heavy green leather vest, open across the chest to display a strange fetish, the black stained jaw of some animal. All of this over a long-necked grey woolen sweater.

Tam suddenly recognized the face of the person starring concernedly back at him. It was the elf who had shoved his hand into the rift, the elf with the terrible eyes. But the face was different now. Before, Tam had stared into the face of a wolf, wild and untamed, fierce and focused. Now it was the pedantic face of a scholar, calmly satisfied that something had gone to his satisfaction, wearing an expression as calm as a mill pond, as if he wasn't standing upon a field of slaughter but within the sanctity of a library giving a lecture.

"What did you do?" Tam stared warily at the elf. Most people were wary of mages, if they had any sense. Personal experience with _elven_ mages had made Tam even more wary.

"_I_, "the baritone voice was all scholarly correction "did nothing. The credit is yours."

"You mean this?" Tam raised his hand, the green brand dimming slowly until it disappeared again.

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand." The elf nodded sagely at the appendage in question. "I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct."

"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself," Cassandra interjected, stepping forward to join the conversation.

"Possibly," the mage allowed, but his face twisted with concern as he said it. He turned back to Tam, "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

"Good to know!" Tam turned to look in the direction of the shout. Short, stout, beardless, and sporting the loudest coat outside of Orlais, the dwarf who had been firing arrows from atop the rubble pile strode up, adjusting a leather glove as he did so in an elegant display of panache. "Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."

He smirked up at Tam, a crooked nose setting the counterpoint between two twinkling blue eyes. "Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally-"Varric threw a wink at Cassandra, "unwelcome tagalong."

Tam smirked back. He couldn't help it. There was something about the dwarf that seemed to incite laughter and put you at your ease. "Are you with the Chantry, or…"

The question elicited a bark of laughter from the elf mage, "Was that a serious question?"

"Technically I'm a prisoner. Just like you." Varric fastidiously examined the cuffs of his coat, pointedly not looking up.

Cassandra's eye's narrowed. "I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly, that is no longer necessary."

"Yet, here I am." Varric spread his arms expansively, as if to welcome to entire world to look upon his glory, and his luxurious crop of golden chest hair, "Lucky for you, considering current events."

"Pleased to meet you, Master Varric. That's a nice, um… crossbow you have there."

"Ah." If it had been possible, sunlight would have blazed from Varric's smile as he turned slightly to show off the contraption slung across his shoulder. "Isn't she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together."

"You named your crossbow Bianca?" Tam was incredulous. Comparing "Bianca" to an ordinary crossbow was like comparing a trebuchet to a slingshot. What they did was simple in concept, but it was obvious to the eye, considering how they did it was miles apart. It was nearly as long as Varric was tall, made out of wood and metal, and obviously complex. Though given Varric's apparent familiarity with "Bianca" complexity wasn't a problem for the dwarf.

"Of course." Varric said it as if the reasoning for naming "Bianca" was obvious, "And she'll be great company in the valley."

"Absolutely not." Cassandra barged in, eyes flashing. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…"

"Have you been in the valley lately Seeker?" Varric interrupted her flow with an almost practiced ease. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me."

He smiled winningly up at Cassandra, a woman who could, by right, have removed his head simply for annoying her, much less contradict her. Cassandra settled for growling with disgust and storming off.

"My name is Solas," said the elf, stepping forward to address Tam again, "if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live."

"He means, "I kept that mark from killing you while you slept."" Varric drawled.

"Then, I owe you my thanks Solas. I am Ser Tamworth Trevelyan, youngest son of Bann Charles Trevelyan of Ostwick. My friends call me Tam, and so may you." Tam bowed from the waist, falling back on military formality, acknowledging a debt owed. "You seem to know a great deal about it all," he said, indicating his hand.

"Solas is an apostate, well versed in such matters." Cassandra cut in. Her temper apparently cooled, the Seeker kicked aside a pile of snow to retrieve a couple of crossbow bolts before handing them over to Varric, who nodded his thanks.

"Technically all mages are now apostates, Cassandra." Solas said mildly before turning back to Tam. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin."

"And what will you do once this is over?"

Solas shrugged, "One hopes those in power will remember who helped, and who did not. Cassandra," the mage addressed the Seeker, "you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is no mage. Indeed," Solas glanced at Tam, his face inscrutable, "I find difficult to imagine any mage having such power."

"Understood." The Seeker nodded, accepting the information, her expression and tone withdrawn. "Come. We must get to the forward camp quickly." She turned and strode away, heading for a break in the shattered walls surrounding them.

Tam shot an incredulous glance at Solas. "She thought I might have been a mage?"

Solas tilted his head quizzically, "Hardly a surprising conclusion, considering recent events."

"It just seems the sort of thing a Seeker would know."

Solas raised one eyebrow in admonishment, "Indeed. It may surprise you to know, but the Lady Cassandra would be the first to tell you that the Seekers are not all-knowing. Just as not all mages are fanatics waiting to blow up sacred buildings, nor are all suspects in suspicious events to be presumed guilty. Keep that in mind." With that cutting turn of phrase, the elf turned and trudged off after Cassandra.

The wind picked up again, bringing the crisp taste of fresh snow. Tam looked around. The soldiers who had been fighting were leaving, retreating back down the valley towards Haven. The Breach rumbled overhead, and the Mark throbbed in sympathy. All around was a sense of prickling anticipation.

"Well," Varric looked up at Tam, shrugging his shoulders with an air of resigned whimsy and smiling, "Bianca's excited."

End of Chapter 4

* * *

><p>Authors Notes: So, we have been introduced to the enigmatic Solas and everybody's favorite dwarf, Varric Tethras. I pray that I can do them justice in the chapters to come.<p>

To **ropertfree72**: Thank you for your review. Yes, this story is going a bit slowly, but I'm still trying to find my feet with the characters. Once I get through this first arc, I promise that things will start to speed up.

Once again, read, review, and enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

Inquisitor

By ElementalsAdvocate

Disclaimer: Everything Dragon Age belongs to Bioware, not to me.

Chapter 5: How to Make Friends and Influence People, Part 2

_One of these days_, Varric swore to himself, kicking his way through yet another snow drift, _I'm going to find some enterprising engineer and get them to invent a set of stairs that moves for you, or a carriage that can climb snow covered mountains by itself, or maybe a flask that keeps drinks hot all the time._ He shivered, the cold cutting through to the bone. _Ancestors, I'd settle for a warmer coat at this point. _

Since meeting in the ruins of the storage station, their little group had been forced to a snail's pace. With snow and rubble blocking the main road, they had once again been forced to take a detour back down into the depths of the valley. Fighting off the occasional pack of demons wandering the landscape had also cost them time, and Varric could hear Cassandra grinding her teeth and muttering imprecations against every engineer in the chantry who had thought it would be a good idea to have only one road leading to the Temple. That and-

"Look out!"

Solas's low cry jerked Varric's head up so fast his neck went _crick,_ just in time to watch another fireball from the Breach hurtling through the air in their direction. The fireball _wooshed_ over their heads, driving into the mountainside above, cutting loose a deluge of snow that barreled down the mountain straight towards them.

Varric took cover behind a conifer, gripping the coarse bark tightly against the waves of snow which threatened to wrest him from his perch.

_Maker, if you're out there, could you perhaps take a moment out of your busy schedule to look out for one poor dwarf who's just trying to stay alive?_

White slush slipped down the front of his shirt, and Varric cursed himself for losing his red scarf back in Haven. A wraith had managed to land a lucky hit, turning the useful item of clothing into a rapidly dissolving mess which had to be discarded. Now, Varric wished he had had the sense to loot another scarf from one of the dead, but nothing he had found fit with his wardrobe. _Vanity goeth before the fall, Varric._

Finally, the snow stopped sliding around him, and Varric unlatched himself from the tree. The avalanche had buried him up to his chest, which meant to the humans and the elf it was up above their knees.

"I hope…" Cassandra grunted, kicking up a flurry as she fought against incline, "that… Leliana… made it… through… all this."

"She's resourceful Seeker." Varric called encouragingly, doing his best to clear some room for himself. "Could somebody give me a hand, or a shovel?"

"Here," Tam had extricated himself from beneath the cover of a high bank. Tunneling through loose white powder, the one-time prisoner made his way to Varric, stamping down the snow enough so the dwarf could move without breaking through yet more powder.

He didn't look good, Varric could tell that at a glance. Though Tam had acquitted himself well against the demons they had met thus far, the man was starting to flag. Cold and exertion were taking their toll, and they weren't anywhere near the forward camp yet, much less the Breach.

"I will scout ahead." Solas volunteered, moving off through the trees. Somehow he was able to stand on top of the snow without breaking through the crust. _Probably magic_, Varric thought sourly.

They started back up the mountainside; Cassandra in the lead to break the snow, Tam second to stamp it down, and Varric in the rear, short legs working overtime to keep up.

"So…" Varric called to Tam, panting a little as he climbed, "You're from Ostwick. I figured as much from your accent. I'm from Kirkwall. Nice to have a fellow Marcher to talk to."

"Possibly." Tam panted, looking back over his shoulder at the dwarf, "But now might not be the best time to reminisce about home."

"What?" Varric stopped in the middle of the track, gesturing around to encompass the entire valley. "You mean walking to almost certain death, in the face of waves of demons, battling our way through the elements, trying to save the world with absolutely no idea how to do so?" Varric made a show of breathing deeply through his nose, rolling his eyes up as if in calculation, and then looking back at Tam with a broad smile. "Sounds to me like the perfect time to be talking about home to me."

That drew a bark of laughter from Tam, "You remind me of my uncle Teagan-"And like that the light died behind his eyes.

Varric's heart sank. "Someone you lost?"

"I don't know."

"Sorry. I didn't mean…"

"It's alright. We've more important things to do."

Varric's mind raced, trying to think of something to say. Fortunately their other traveling companion chose that moment to cut in.

"Keep moving," Cassandra growled back at them, staying focused on the task at hand and slogging up the slope.

"So…" Tam called back to Varric as they resumed their climb, "can you tell me what happened when the Breach opened?"

"Well now, "I was in Haven at the time, just coming out of the tavern in fact. Bianca and I had just finished dealing with a drunken lout who couldn't keep his hands to himself, when suddenly-

But at that moment Solas reappeared from out of the woods, rudely interrupting the beginning of a Varric original by calling out, "Come quickly! The forward camp isn't far but they need our help!"

Cassandra picked up her pace, following closely on Solas's heels as the elf turned back up the slope.

"So… _are_ you innocent?" Varric called ahead to Tam, gasping a little as the dwarf fought to keep up with his longer limbed compatriots.

"I don't remember what happened." Tam replied tersely, powering through the snow with long strides. The white stuff was actually getting thinner as they rose out of the valley.

"That'll get you every time," Varric shook his head sympathetically, "Should have spun a story,"

"That's what _you_ would have done." Cassandra growled, coming up behind them.

"It's more believable," Varric said practically, grabbing on to a nearby rock and pulling himself up the next step, "and less prone to result in premature execution."

Cassandra growled at the back-handed comment, but refused to rise to Varric's bait, instead focusing her efforts on running, forcing Varric to shut his own mouth and focus on not falling.

Suddenly, they were out of the trees and off the slope. In front of them, a clearing had been made before the bridge-gates of their Forward Camp. Unfortunately, in front of those gates…

"Another rift!" Cassandra shouted, drawing her sword. "We must seal it! Quickly!"

_Here we go again girl._ Varric cranked Bianca once, and stepped forward. _Time to go to work._

End of Chapter 5

Author's Notes:

Sorry for this late submission everyone. Writer's block, school, and a nasty fall contributed to put me off my game. But I'm back on schedule and I should have the next chapter by next Monday.

This week's posting was a little shorter than I wanted, but Varric's POV kicked my butt to be perfectly frank. Varric's such a complex character that I'm finding it difficult to properly get behind his eyes.

To **Hanyou-demoness**: Thank you for the review. I'm glad you like my character. I'm trying to go for a WW2 British military officer mentality, with some American ingenuity thrown in. I've got a backstory all worked out. If you think Tam's interesting, wait until you meet the rest of his family!


	6. Chapter 6

Inquisitor

By ElementalsAdvocate

Disclaimer: Anything Dragon Age belongs to Bioware, not me

Chapter 6: Council at the Forward Camp

"Forward!" Cassandra screamed, and threw herself into the fray. Wraith bolts bounced off her shield as Cassandra closed with a large shade that sported an elaborate spiked headdress. Trevelyan followed right behind Cassandra, covering her right flank and dealing with anything that got too close. Behind, Solas arched icy bolts of power into a clump of wraiths pounding on Cassandra, while Varric inched his way along the perimeter of the clearing, Bianca exerting her distinct _coup de grace_ on the malignant wisps and splattering them into oblivion.

With a single swipe, Cassandra separated the arm from a Greater Shade. The humpbacked and headdresses demon gave a whistling cry before dissolving into motes of light that flushed back into the rift.

Cassandra snatched a glance over her shoulder at Tam, who had simultaneously smashed the last demon on the field with his shield, sending the phantasmal beast back into the Fade. "Hurry – Use the Mark! Before-"

The rift quivered like the belly of a soldier who was about to have intimate knowledge of the inside of a latrine, and vomited forth a new wave of demons. Wraiths. Lots of them. Suddenly Cassandra was on the defensive, retreating under a barrage of wraith bolts that pounded against her upraised shield like rain on a metal roof.

"Back." Cassandra growled, shoulders protesting against the onslaught. The wraiths were spreading out, trying to maneuver around to strike beyond the protection of her shield, and while

"The guards," Trevelyan growled at Cassandra's back. "They've closed the gate. We're on our own." The man cursed, deflecting another wraith bolt with his wooden round shield. The wraiths were spreading out, trying to maneuver around to strike beyond the protection of their shields, forcing them to pull back to the edge of the clearing, joined swiftly by Solas who cast a barrier spell, winnowing out the barrage of wraith bolts coming their way, but only just.

"Can you close the rift from here?" The elf called, ducking back as a wraith bolt made it past his barrier, nearly taking the elf's head off in the process.

"I can try," Trevelyan replied grimly.

Cassandra heard the thud on snow as the Marcher noble dropped his shield, felt as Trevelyan extended his hand towards the rift, fingers spread wide, muscles taut and straining, the Mark sparking loud and green.

Nothing happened.

Cassandra was about to ask whether they needed to get closer, when she nearly got the shock of her life.

A blaze of gold erupted from Trevelyan's hand, and suddenly strands of light shot out of the Mark, . Simultaneously, green light erupted from the rift, crashing forward to meet strands of gold, twining together into a cable of green and gold light.

Cassandra snatched a glance over her shoulder at Trevelyan. His eyes were open, glaring into the rift with fierce concentration, teeth bared in a silent snarl. With the light from the rift illuminating the entirety of this face, shoulder-length red-brown hair flying in the wind, and dark stubble spreading across his chin, cheeks and upper lip, he looked like…

…_a hero…_

Before Cassandra had time to quash the thought, the rift groaned and flexed, flapping and fluctuating. There was a sudden explosion of air and a wave of light bounced from the rift, causing every wraith present to scream and writhe in obvious agony.

"Now!" Cassandra shrieked, and charged. She hacked one wraith across its phantasmal neck, and the creature spattered without a fight to be sucked into the rift. An explosion on her left, and suddenly a trio of wraiths disappeared in a wave of red and orange flames.

"That had to hurt!" was Varric's merry call as the dwarf reappeared, ramming Bianca's bayonet blade into another wraith before turning his weapons formidable firepower on another one, perforating the demon in seconds and scattering its essence into the wind.

In a matter of moments, the battle had turned around completely. Cassandra speared the last wraith, and turned back to order her prisoner forward, but the man was already moving, rushing forward, ramming his bare hand into the kernel of light at the heart of the rift.

Another implosion of air, and the rift folded in upon itself just as the first had. A line in the air, a dot, and then it was gone. No more demons, no more blood.

"Solas?" Cassandra called.

The elf stepped forward, tentatively waving one hand through the air where the rift had been, then dropping it to his side with a satisfied nod of his bald head. "We are clear for the moment. Well done."

"Whatever that thing on your hand is," Varric commented, stomping over to collect his arrows, "it's useful."

"Yes, well it's also…" Trevelyan began, before his knees buckled, toppling him face forward into the snow.

"Solas-" Cassandra started, but the elf was already moving. Skidding to his knees, Solas dragged the comatose man so he laid face-up.

"What's wrong with him?" Cassandra asked, hovering over the elf's shoulder as the apostate waved one hand over Trevelyan's suddenly too pale face.

"It's the Mark. It's draining him of his energy every time he uses it." Solas swept his hand down Trevelyan's frame, little wisp lights circling the man's body before fading away. "Without time, without rest, it may consume him entirely the next time he attempts to close a rift."

"Will he be able to seal the Breach?"

Solas looked at Cassandra then, looked straight into her eyes, and the Seeker had to shiver.

The elf had simply turned up, unexpected, unannounced, uncalled for, and had offered his services without as much as a word of persuasion on Cassandra's part. He had fought, not brilliantly, but there were many soldiers still fighting in the valley who owed their lives to the apostate's spell work. He had slaved for hours over Trevelyan's inert form, doing everything in his power to bring the man back from the brink and then, after assuring Cassandra that the man would live and awaken, had calmly returned to the battlefield. There was… an intensity to the elf that set him apart from other mortals.

"I don't know," Solas replied succinctly.

He pulled out a bottle of something from the pouch at his waist, popping the cork out with one hand while opening the man's mouth with the other. The heady scent of apples and alcohol rolled from the top of the bottle, causing Cassandra to blink and Varric to cough. Solas poured the heavy cider into Trevelyan's open mouth, massaging his throat to make the potent liquor go down.

"Ah," Solas nodded as color rushed back to Trevelyan's face, eyes fluttering open to stare up at the faces grouped above him. "Good. Cassandra, we need to get him to shelter. Some food would not go amiss either."

"Right." Cassandra stood and turned, leaving Solas and Varric to tend to their companion. "The rift is gone! Open the gate!" _And Andraste help whoever ordered that gate closed, because when I find them…_

It was not a good day. Time to make someone else's a whole lot worse.

* * *

><p>"Here," Solas pulled out a small lump of cheese and a strip of dried meat out of the pouch at his waist. "Take this, but eat it slowly. Your body needs to recover, and a little at a time will serve you better than wolfing it down."<p>

"I've been on campaign before, Master Solas," Tam replied grumpily, tearing off a strip of the meat with his teeth and masticating it savagely. Fainting in front of everyone did not sit well with him. Now, sitting on a wooden crate in the Forward Camp, wrapped in a woolen blanket and being fed while Cassandra's soldiers fought demons outside, being treated like a helpless child; it did not sit well with him at all.

_Get ahold of yourself! _Tam thought sternly. _You won't help anyone by fainting again. Rest, recuperate, and then press on. Just like Uncle Teagan would have._

_Uncle…_

It hurt. Everything hurt, but his heart especially. From where he sat, Tam could see the field where once the collected elite of Southern Thedas has gathered; a field now buried beneath at least twenty feet of snow and rubble. And until the Breach and the demons were dealt with, no one seemed inclined to go digging for bodies. And Teagan hadn't even been in the camp when the Temple had…

"How long has it been since the Breach appeared?" Tam asked.

"Since the Breach opened? Approximately two days. " Solas answered pedantically.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I wasn't actually in Haven at the time you see, merely nearby, keeping my eyes and ears open for news from the Conclave."

"As it were," Tam agreed, "and then?"

"In the middle of the night, I was awoken by an immense thunder in the earth and the heavens. When I looked up, I saw the Breach appear in the night sky. Then the fire started raining from the sky, and the rest you can probably guess. I came to Haven, found Cassandra, volunteered my services, and together we managed to get to the Temple where we found you."

"And you saw me… actually step out of a rift?

"Not myself, but several soldiers were there to witness the event." Solas studied Tam's face, searching for… something which Tam knew not. "Perhaps you could ease my curiosity; do you remember anything at all before waking up in Haven? Observations, thoughts, impressions…?" Solas trailed off at Tam's blank expression. "I see. Well, if you should happen to recall anything, please tell me, before-"

"Hey Chuckles, how's your patient?"

Varric stomped over, Bianca riding nonchalantly over his shoulder. "You might want to speed it up. Cassandra's arguing with Nightingale and some Chantry big-wig about out next move."

"I'm coming too." Tam rose to his feet, stuffing the lump of cheese into his mouth after swallowing the last of the meat, simultaneously shoving his feelings into a cupboard in his mind

The Forward Camp was situated on the length of a solid stone bridge, barred at both ends by large castellated gates. It was the last bridge on the main road before heading straight up the mountain, somehow surviving the blast of the temples destruction and had, so far, avoided being smashed to pieces by the fireballs which continued to rain from the Breach high above them.

Walking through the Camp now, Tam looked around at the faces of the men and women who yet lived. Some lay on blankets and cots, comatose to the world, while others sat, faces set in grim and silent lines of despair. Everyone sported some kind of injury. Everyone knew that the end was near, and knew the single word which described their situation: Dire.

At the far end of the bridge, outside the entrance of a large field tent set up just before the gates, stood the Lady Leliana, now armed with a longbow and a pair of murderous short-swords. Across a table strewn with maps and other documents, a middle-aged man in the robes of Chantry brother wearing the black and gold skull-cap of a high-ranking member of the Chantry's logistical branch was arguing with Leliana. Meanwhile Cassandra stood by, arms crossed with a face like thunder.

Leliana glanced up as Tam and his companions approached, "You made it." Leliana flashed what looked like a genuine smile before turning back to the table. "Chancellor Roderick, this is—

"I know who he is." The man drew himself into a stance of regal authority, gesturing dramatically at Tam. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution."

"Order me?" Cassandra snarled, "You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!"

"And you," Roderick retorted with a dismissive wave and a glare at the Seeker, "are a thug, but a thug that supposedly serves the chantry!"

"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know." Leliana cut in, shooting Cassandra a glance to include the Seeker in her subtle admonishment.

"Justinia is dead!" Chancellor Roderick cried, slamming his fists down onto the table and spilling his inkwell, black liquid spattering in a viscous wave. "We must elect a replacement, and obey her orders on the matter!"

"Isn't closing the Breach the more pressing issue?" Tam pointed out politely.

Roderick rounded on the Marcher noble, voice rising into a screech of bottled fury, "You brought this on us in the first place!"

Roderick made an obvious effort to reel in his over-wrought sensibilities. He took a deep breath, sighed, and turned to Cassandra, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless."

"We can stop this before it's too late." Cassandra stepped forward, sensing an opportunity for victory.

"How?" Roderick spread his hands in empty denial. "You won't survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with all your soldiers."

"We must get to the Temple. It's the quickest route." Cassandra argued, stabbing a finger down to a map of the valley on the table, and drawing a line straight to the Temple complex following the main road.

"But not the safest." Leliana stepped forward to sketch another route that led up the mountainside and then curved back down again into the heart of the Temple. "Our forces can charge as a distraction, while we go through the mountains."

Cassandra shook her head grimly. "We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It is too risky."

"Listen to me. Abandon this now before more lives are lost!" Roderick begged.

_A three-way tie. Each one as strong as the other, and no figure of authority to break the tie. And meanwhile, I'm slowing being eaten away by magic._

The three stood, indecisive. But abruptly, Cassandra turned the tables. "How do you think we should proceed?" The Seeker asked, rounding on the subject of their indecision.

Tam blinked, starring at the Seeker's sudden question. "Now you're asking me what I think?"

"You have the Mark," Cassandra said practically. "And you are the one we must keep alive. Since we cannot agree on our own…"

Tam blinked, but turned away to consider the problem.

_Retreat is out of the question. We fall back, there is no guarantee that the Breach won't stop growing, and another assault might not get so far. Furthermore, I'll be turned into a scapegoat, that's if I don't die as soon as we leave. Therefore, we must advance. But how?_

Tam stared up at the mountains above, taking it all in; the Breach, the ruins of the Temple beneath, and the road leading to it. A relatively narrow, winding road that climbed up to the temple proper by way of doubling back upon itself before reaching the shelf of stone that the Temple sat upon, over five hundred feet above the valley floor.

Now, that carefully highway had been turned into a winters death trap. Snow and ice from avalanches started by the Breach's quakes covered, dotted with wreckage, and, as Tam squinted his eyes, he could just make out the dozens of weird figures silhouetted against the snow.

_Demons. Why is it always demons?_

Shades and wraiths he recognized, but also impossibly tall and skeletal figures that loped across the snow, and creatures that seemed to be made out of living flame, rolling down from the heights above to crash and thrash their way, melting snow and turning earth to mud beneath them.

No one was getting up to the Temple that way without serious casualties.

"_Only a fool tries to take an entrenched position by charging across an open plain, Tam."_ Uncle Teagan's voice seemed to rumble across the tides of memory to give him a subtle slap on the forehead. _"And only a bull-goose fool would try and take an entrenched position on high ground from the front."_

"We take the mountain path."

"What?" Cassandra's eyes narrowed, though Varric nodded approvingly.

"If we try to go up by the main road, we'll be stuck for hours. Hours we don't have." Tam turned to the older man. "And for your information, Chancellor, I don't expect to live long enough to get to Val Royeaux, not if this Mark gets any worse. So unless you would prefer I die before feeding me to the wolves in Orlais, we need to get the Breach closed first. Come on," the Marcher turned and started walking, Varric taking step right behind him, "everyone stick together. We need to move light and fast."

"Leliana," Cassandra's voice cracked in the freezing air, "call in the troops from the valley. All of them."

As they strode away, Chancellor Roderick's voice rang in Tam's mind like the iron grey bells of the fortress Anvil. "On your head be the consequences Seeker."

End of Chapter 6.


End file.
